Sometimes We Don't Need Words
by Eliros
Summary: It's only now that they realize it's not just friendship.


**This was already posted on my Tumblr, but I figured I might as well upload it on here, too...**

* * *

Blaine watched him dance with that suave that only he could pull off. Safe to say, he was mesmerized by the way the other boy's body swayed to the rhythm of the song, like his dancing was just another type of sign language and represented the song without any words or sound at all. Like his body was the music itself. It was... magic. And he knew he couldn't even look away if he wanted to, because his eyes were drawn to the boy like two magnets that were bound to meet at some point.

The boy in question, still dancing, eyes closed, almost unaware of the pair of eyes that took in his every movement because he was too lost in the music to think about anything else, suddenly stopped moving. With his eyes still closed, he turned to his friend, a lazy smile tugging at his lips.

"Blaine. Hi."

The boy waved, approaching his friend. He wasn't surprised the Asian knew who was watching him, even if his eyes were glued shut. He had been, at first, but he'd gotten used to how the dancer seemed both very much aware and unaware of his surroundings while dancing.

"What are you doing here?" Mike still had his eyes closed, and turned his back to Blaine, facing the mirror as if he was checking out his reflection. Only he wasn't, because his feet were slowly moving again, exploring familiar and unfamiliar paths, while his arms and shoulders seemed to move perfectly along like he'd been practicing that particular routine for weeks. Blaine knew for a fact that he hadn't practiced any of this, that what he was witnessing was nothing more than plain improvisation. Because Michael seemed more at ease when he was improvising. His dance moves were smoother, more elegant, more... _Michael_.

Blaine shrugged. "I don't know."

"You don't _know_, or you don't want to _tell_ me?"

The boy was spot on, as always. Blaine should've known.

"I..."

Mike stopped dancing, slowly turning around to face the boy that was now looking down at his feet, remaining silent because he didn't know what to say. His eyebrows shot up, a questioning look plastered to his face.

When it seemed that his friend wouldn't continue, his feet started moving again, closing his eyes once again as the music slowly faded to the background and all that he was aware of were the movements of his body.

Blaine's always present _courage_ seemed to have completely disappeared, all that was left was utter confusion. He had no idea why his feet had dragged him here, while he _knew_ Mike would be dancing and thus wouldn't be much of a conversation partner. Truth was, Blaine didn't mind watching the Asian dance, nor did he mind keeping his mouth shut the entire time, because Mike's dancing was in ways his way of telling his story, to talk about, well, anything, using his body to express everything that couldn't be put into words. And Blaine was a good listener. He liked watching the guy dance, because it was like he was listening to the boy's life story.

But _why_? Why did he like it so much?

Because, to him, it wasn't just friendship; he realized. It never was. Things were just... _right_ when he was with him. Even when there was silence hanging in between them, even when Mike was too occupied with his dancing to acknowledge him. He just didn't understand why he felt something like this for his best friend, while he had a perfect, handsome, sweet boyfriend... One that didn't dance like his body was made for the smooth moves, one that didn't posses the same elegance the Asian seemed to have, one that- Blaine shook his head, trying to stop himself from comparing the two. They weren't anything alike, so it wasn't fair to compare them. Frankly, it wasn't fair to compare them under _any_ circumstances.

He hadn't noticed that his friend had stopped dancing and was now frowning at him, a worried look crossing his face.

"Blaine?"

A gentle hand touching his arm was what brought him back to the real world, back to the friend that was standing just a few inches away from him.

"What's wrong?"

Blaine smiled faintly at the worry that drenched his voice. The smile faded quickly as he remembered Mike expected an answer from him.

He wondered what would happen if he spilled the truth. The thought terrified him. Because there was no way his feelings would be returned. And there was no way things wouldn't change if he was honest. Things would change for Blaine, anyway, if he told the latter or not, but things didn't necessarily have to change for Mike. He didn't want to change things for the guy, he just couldn't. Not when he knew a change would probably mean the end of their friendship.

So he did the only thing that seemed reasonable.

"I'm sorry."

And he turned around and ran away.

* * *

It had been a week since they'd last seen each other and exchanged words. Blaine was desperately trying to avoid Mike, and Mike didn't want to push his friend into letting him do something he didn't want to do. He was positive the boy would tell him what was going on eventually. And, while he clung onto that, and tried to ignore the ache in his heart that was caused by his best friend's absence, some part of him was scared they'd remain like this forever. Because he could feel the awkward situation that was now in between them like a thick fog, and he couldn't help but notice how Blaine seemed to tense up every time Mike so much as glanced in his direction.

It tore him apart, but he didn't have the guts to go up to him and confront him about it. He knew it'd make things ten times worse, he knew that Blaine would only end up running away again, and every hope of their friendship to turn normal again would be shattered.

Even though he kept telling himself that every day, every time the boy came to his mind, he had a hard time being his patient self. He missed Blaine. He missed dancing while the boy would be there with him, watching his every move. He missed dancing _for_ Blaine.

There was no point in lying to himself. While dancing was what he loved doing, be it with or without audience, he was always at his best when he felt the warm, hazel eyes on his body, taking in his smallest dance moves with so much adoration it seemed like his heart would explode from all the happiness that shot through him.

He'd been struggling with it for a while, tried to understand what was going through his head and what made him feel that way. Mike was smart. So he figured it out rather soon. But he thought he was fooling himself.

There was a fine line between friendship and... _love_... after all. So why couldn't it just be friendship?

To stop himself from losing his mind, he headed toward his favorite room, the dance studio, and turned off all of his doubts and worries, tried to dance them away. It worked, more or less. Because, soon enough, all that his mind could process were the calm notes of the song that was playing, and the slow motions that his body was caught in.

This time, he hadn't noticed the pair of eyes that stared at him. Maybe because he tried to ban the owner of the pair of eyes from his mind.

Only when the music stopped, he could hear the shuffling of feet, approaching him slowly and rather carefully. He looked up at the visitor and wasn't surprised as he looked up at the very familiar face.

"Hi." Mike was the first one to break the unnerving silence. He smiled hesitantly, searching for that one look that would tell him everything would turn out alright.

Blaine's facial expression remained blank.

It was enough for Mike's heart to shatter in at least a million pieces. He turned his back to the boy and continued dancing, eyes glued shut as he tried to forget about what Blaine's face had told him with that one look.

Five minutes passed, the Asian remained dancing, the other one completely frozen, his clenching his hands to fists because he was furious. At himself. For not doing anything.

After dancing to two songs, Mike dared to turn around, hoping he was left alone by now. Only he wasn't. Blaine was still standing in there, staring at him without really noticing him. He looked... broken.

"Are you going to tell me what's up?"

Blaine looked down at the floor, swallowing hard as his face slowly transformed in a what seemed like an almost permanent state of frowning. Finally, he answered the question by shaking his head steadily.

Mike approached him carefully, stopping a few feet away.

"Blaine... Come on, you know you can tell me _anything_. No judgment." It hurt him to know his best friend was afraid of speaking what was on his mind, as if he dreaded Mike's reaction.

And Blaine slowly looked up. Eyes filled with fear, and hope, and... He began speaking slowly.

Mike listened attentively to everything that had kept his best friend away from him, not once daring to interrupt him.

Soon enough, the boy's story came to an end, and silence took over.

Had he'd heard that correct? Did... did Blaine... Did he- Mike's always calm mind was now filled with chaos. He was gobsmacked, at the very least, and didn't know what to say, or do. Or-

Blaine, now looking down at his feet again, took the silence as rejection and started to turn around, muttering apologies and excusing himself.

Coming to his senses, Mike got hold of the guy's upper arm and turned him back around without even thinking about it.

"Don't. Don't run away again."

He pulled the boy toward him, just as the first few piano notes of a new song drifted through the air. Mike took hold of Blaine's wrists, placing the boy's hands at his shoulders, before bringing his hands down to Blaine's waist, hesitantly placing both hands at the sides.

And they danced.

Blaine realized instantly that this was Michael's way to express his feelings without words. Because the Asian didn't need words to talk.

He smiled.

And so did Mike.


End file.
